Career Advice
by Dagonett
Summary: When Draco Malfoy arrives in Severus Snape's office for his career advice, he gets a bit more than bargained for. Not slash, PG for v. mild language.


Title: Career Advice  
  
Author: Dagonett  
  
Summary: Draco Malfoy's career advice turns out to be a bit more than he expects.  
  
Ships: None. No slash, despite the unfortunately suggestive summary.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I'm writing this merely for the addictive pleasure of exploring the character of Draco Malfoy. *grins*  
  
Career Advice It had not been a good day.  
  
Draco Malfoy mused to himself inwardly as he slunk into Snape's office for his "career advice." Bloody stupid thing to have, really - some people already knew what they wanted to do with their lives.  
  
Draco gazed at the jars of mysterious contents lining the walls of Snape's office thoughtfully. He had always assumed he would become a Death Eater, Snape had to know that. Of course, he had always secretly harbored the wish of working in the Ministry - rubbing shoulders with the rich and the famous - and until recently, it had seemed feasible for him to act as a double agent. His father was one of the Dark Lord's most trusted Death Eaters, and Draco himself had made an effort to get into that horrible Umbridge woman's good graces. He snorted to himself quietly. It seemed to be working, if the Inquisitorial Squad was any indication.  
  
But now, the Ministry was looking like a dead end - the Dark Lord had risen, and was growing more powerful with each passing day, if Lucius Malfoy was at all reliable as a source. Draco sighed. By the time he graduated from Hogwarts, the Dark Lord would be having a full-fledged war with the Ministry. His father would have revealed his true colors at last - by choice or not - and thus, Draco would be branded forever.  
  
Still, Potter was a threat to be reckoned with. The way things were shaping up, either he was going to kill the Dark Lord, or the Dark Lord was going to kill him. Draco shuddered - he was sincerely hoping for the latter. Lucius Malfoy made sure his son knew that there was no way Harry Potter was going to get the better of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but then again, he didn't have four classes with him. Much as he hated to admit it, Draco knew that Potter had a pretty strong chance of thwarting the Dark Lord's plans for as long as need be. He also knew that if Lucius was going to continue to dive into Death Eater activities at the rate he was going, his cover would be blown eventually, and Draco would be ruined. Although he would never let him know, Draco disapproved of Lucius' brash behavior when it came to the Dark Lord.  
  
That's the difference between my father and me, Draco mused to himself, he's too old to consider the future. He smiled to himself in the gloom of Snape's dungeons.  
  
The door to the Potions master's office swung open and Gregory Goyle exited, Snape following. Draco trailed them with his eyes, face unreadable.  
  
"Hello," Goyle grunted. Draco glanced at Snape questioningly.  
  
"Go on, boy!" the Potions master snapped, glaring at Goyle. The immense fifteen-year-old scampered awkwardly out of the room. Draco smirked after him.  
  
"Well, come in, we haven't got all day," Snape said at last, holding the door to his office open. Draco got up and went inside, sitting down in a rickety wooden stool in front of Snape's desk.  
  
"So, Draco," Snape said, easing himself into his own black leather armchair, "Have you thought at all about what you would like to do with your life after Hogwarts?"  
  
Draco stared at Snape's seating accommodations enviously. "I would have thought that much was obvious, sir."  
  
Snape shook his head impatiently. "No, boy, I mean have YOU thought about your future?"  
  
Draco glanced at his Potions Master, surprised. Was it possible Snape had finally gone off his leather rocker?  
  
"I'm sorry, sir, I don't know what you mean," he said. Snape sighed.  
  
"Your father wants you to become a Death Eater," he said flatly, "What would you like to do?"  
  
Draco stared at him, open-mouthed.  
  
"I - I don't know, sir," he replied, "Become a Death Eater, I suppose?"  
  
"Your father so has you under his influence that you don't even have your own opinions?" Snape barked. Draco blinked, surprised. This was not going according to plan. Snape was supposed to agree with his Death Eater arrangement and cackle with Draco diabolically. That was the plan.  
  
"I - I have opinions!" he said defensively, "Just - I - I want to be a Death Eater!"  
  
"Draco," Snape shook his head, "You and I both know that you want much more then a life of service to an obsessive, power-hungry maniac. Your personality is just not compatible with that kind of a career - if you could even call it that. You are too rebellious, too outspoken, too entitled to be satisfied with service. Besides," Snape peered at Draco intently, resting his chin on intertwined fingers, "I know from personal experience that he will not even notice your existence until you do enough to earn a life sentence in Azkaban and a Dementor's Kiss to boot."  
  
Draco couldn't believe what he was hearing. He gaped at his Potions Master incredulously.  
  
"Don't. don't talk about Him that way!" he finally managed to stammer. Snape rolled his eyes.  
  
"You have no reason to be loyal to him, boy," he snapped, "Live up to your potential!"  
  
Draco continued to stare in shock. His father was going to have a fit when he found out about this.  
  
Snape sighed.  
  
"I have been thinking about this for a long time, and I simply do not believe that you would be happy as a Death Eater, Draco," he said, "You are much more suited to politics and law. You could be great, you know - at fifteen, you are already an intelligent, ambitious, and powerful wizard with the uncanny ability to analyze any situation and use it to your own advantage. I know of no other student at this school, all things considered, who is as suited to politics as you are."  
  
Draco thought smugly of Harry Potter.  
  
"Well, sir," he said slowly, "I had thought that I might go into the Ministry and double as an agent for the Dark Lord."  
  
Snape slammed his fist on his desk in a sudden act of frustration. Draco scooted his stool backwards in terror and shock.  
  
"Do you honestly think you can pull that off?" the older man demanded, "Your father is up to his neck in Death Eater activities, and sooner or later, he will be discovered for what he really is, ruining any chance you might have had in the Ministry! Use your head, boy - you're not an incompetent fool by any means, please do not act like one."  
  
Draco was amazed for two reasons. One, the sudden, unexpected rebuke, and two, the fact that he was not alone in his theory about his father. He suddenly found himself rendered speechless.  
  
"But you've thought of that, haven't you?" Snape said heavily. Draco nodded. The Potions Master leaned over the width of his desk so that there was barely a foot between himself and his student. Terrified, and yet intrigued at the same time, Draco froze. "Draco, your father is under the unfortunate delusion that he can control your life. You are, and have been, under that delusion as well - but it is not true. To a certain extent, your father can control you: you learn what he wants, you say what he wants, for Merlin's sake, Draco, you even date who he wants - but the catch is, and I don't think either of you realizes this - you don't think what he wants. You are subtly different from him, and because he believes that you are a miniature version of himself, he has not stopped this quality from growing. Lucius Malfoy enjoys the life of service he has as a Death Eater. Draco Malfoy would not. You would earn power for yourself; you want to do something where people will notice you, not your cause."  
  
Snape paused for a moment to look at a shell-shocked Draco. The two surveyed each other. Snape had an odd look in his eyes.  
  
"Father will go ballistic when he finds out about this," Draco said finally. Snape shook his head. His greasy, matted hair swung back and forth unpleasantly. Draco winced.  
  
"This just proves my point," Snape said, "The second anything important or confusing happens, you go running to your father. What are you going to do when you're on your own, which, by the way, might be very soon?"  
  
"I don't do that!" Draco snapped, knowing it was true, "And he's not going to die!"  
  
"He'll get caught, don't you realize that?" Snape said angrily, "You're getting into things you don't understand, boy!"  
  
"So you regret joining the Dark Lord?" Draco snarled.  
  
"Don't give me that, Malfoy!" Snape growled, looking furious, "You have no idea what Death Eaters are like, or how they are structured. Listen to me, dammit! I don't want you making my mistakes!" He broke off and stared at Draco broodingly. "You used to be such an bright, inquisitive young man. Your father is brainwashing you - don't let him ruin your potential."  
  
Draco pursed his lips and leaned back in his chair, not sure how to take the situation. Though he had been showered with praise and gifts his entire life, no one had ever told him he had potential before, and it was strangely gratifying.  
  
Snape took a deep breath.  
  
"Draco," he said, "You think you want to become a Death Eater because you've never had a choice. I'm giving you one. Consider it, will you?"  
  
Draco quirked an eyebrow and tilted his head at an angle.  
  
"I'm sorry to be rude, sir, but do you honestly really care about my future?" he asked frankly. For a while, Snape didn't answer. He stared at Draco intently.  
  
"No," he said finally, "I care about you. You remind me of myself at fifteen - bright, ambitious, and a touch naïve. It was that naivety that almost killed me - I don't want it to kill you."  
  
There was a long silence. Draco and Snape locked each other's gazes steadily. Snape's black eyes had an almost challenging look to them; Draco's were searching. For a while the only sound in the room was the steady ripple of boiling potions.  
  
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Jerked out of his reverie, Snape looked up.  
  
"Yes?" he called. Theodore Nott stuck his head inside the room.  
  
"I've come for my career advice, Professor," he said, glancing at Draco curiously.  
  
"Can't you wait?" Snape growled. Theodore looked positively terrified. The Potions Master seemed to be in an especially bad mood - he didn't normally snap at one of his own house members.  
  
"Well, you see, sir, I've been waiting for ten minutes already," he said in a small voice. Snape glanced at the clock on his desk.  
  
"So you have," he said. "Draco, I'm sorry, but our session has ended. Feel free to stop by when you've considered what we discussed."  
  
Draco nodded, feeling distinctly odd as he rose and slid past Theodore Nott into the adjoining classroom. He wondered about what had happened - Snape had surprised him with his sudden disrespect to the Dark Lord, and his not-so-subtle challenge. When Draco got to his dormitory (mercifully empty), he gazed at the quills and parchment lying on his trunk quietly. He stood staring at them for a long time, until finally, he shook his head. Lucius didn't really need to know about this. Besides, he had a lot to think about in the meantime, and for once, he wanted to do it alone.  
  
Snape's words rang in his head as he left the Slytherin common room. They were so offhand, so unimportant, that Draco marveled at his unusual inclination to remember them.  
  
Then again, he thought as he entered the Great Hall for dinner, nobody's ever said that to me before. You could be great, you know.he didn't need a scar for someone to tell him that.  
  
A/N: Oh, mucho excitement! Me likes very much, oh yes. I'm actually very surprised with how well this turned out. I wrote it on a whim inspired by a comment I once saw in a forum about the Draco/Snape relationship. in this story, though, I tried to delve into Draco's personality a bit more, because I adore him to no end and think he's about the coolest thing to hit the literary world since the semicolon.  
Please review. It means so much to me.  
  
- Dagonett 


End file.
